<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Sparks in Technicolor by Kari_Kurofai</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838835">Sparks in Technicolor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kari_Kurofai/pseuds/Kari_Kurofai'>Kari_Kurofai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>My Engineer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rutting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:34:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838835</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kari_Kurofai/pseuds/Kari_Kurofai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bohn gets it, he does. Despite the disparities in their previous experiences, all of this is still new territory for both of them. He just wishes Duen didn't keep pretending like it wasn't happening at all, or worse look so fucking guilty about it. Maybe Bohn should just make a custom t-shirt printed with "You're allowed to get a hard on for your own damn boyfriend" on it to get the point across.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Duen Krisada Rattananumchok/Bon Sirikarnkul</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>229</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sparks in Technicolor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392593">There's somethin' 'bout his manners (Havana, ooh na-na)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/weilongfu/pseuds/weilongfu">weilongfu</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Partially inspired by Weilongfu's fic, There's Somethin' 'Bout His Manners (Havana, ooh na-na). I really wanted to play with a shyer but still totally horny Duen after reading their work.</p><p>Been hoarding this for awhile, but I've been sick lately so decided to post it now since I have nothing else new for y'all.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Duen makes a big show of getting rid of the pillow barricade on the bed when they get back from the volunteer trip. He does it with a very overly dramatic flourish, and Bohn rewards him with an appreciative and totally not sarcastic round of applause. He gets a pillow to the face for his efforts, of course, but that's fine because it's accompanied by Duen straddling him in order to smash said pillow into said face. Basically, it all works out in his favor. </p><p>After that, they fall into what Bohn lovingly refers to as The Cuddling Phase, and he is <em> over the fucking moon</em>. And while Bohn already knew he was a clingy bitch, it really pays off to be a <em> reciprocated </em> clingy bitch. So while he's happy Duen has found his comfort zone, he can admit he's especially and perhaps a little selfishly happiest for himself. As someone who tends to fuck themselves over by saying the wrong thing at the worst time, being able to express his emotions with touch is an immediate and constant relief. Apologies taste better as kisses, anyways. </p><p>So yeah, they're kings of the cuddle right now. Lords of the tangled limbs and softly traded kisses. And honestly, Bohn could probably die content just from that alone. Or he could have before Duen started cutting their snuggle time short. </p><p>It doesn't happen immediately. In fact, they settle into a pretty good, solid period of physical affection that shockingly comes without any of their usual hiccups. And then one day, sometime close to their three month anniversary (that Bohn totally isn't keeping track of) Duen sits up from where he'd been laying across Bohn's chest, scoots over to the other side of the couch, and studiously focuses on the movie neither of them had been paying attention to.</p><p>It happens again two days later, again three more after that, and by the time two weeks have passed Bohn pretty much marks down the end of The Cuddling Phase on his mental calendar. The worst part is he can't even bring himself to sulk about it when he realizes he can wiggle just shy of twenty minutes of snuggling out of Duen anymore because he knows <em> exactly </em> what's been cutting everything short. And it's nothing to sulk about at all. It is, however, a thing he has to mull over for quite awhile to try and think of an effective game plan, because coming right out and declaring, "Hey it's totally cool that you're getting crazy boners for me," is direct but a bit much. </p><p>That's exactly what it is, though. Bohn would have to completely lack nerve endings not to have noticed that's Duen's new hangup. Or uh, hung . . . up? There's a really good dick joke in there somewhere, but whenever Bohn tries to say it that falters just as badly on his tongue as every other smooth move he can come up with. It shorts out into a really unhelpful cacophony of <em> Duen </em> and <em> Boner </em> and <em> Horny </em> and <em> Nice </em> to be exact. None of which are things he should say aloud considering that every time it happens Duen looks like he's actually having a really terrible internal crisis. </p><p>And Bohn gets that, he does. Despite the disparities in their previous experiences, all of this is still new territory for both of them. He just wishes Duen didn't keep pretending like it wasn't happening at all, or worse look so fucking guilty about it. Maybe Bohn should just make a custom t-shirt printed with "You're allowed to get a hard on for your own damn boyfriend" on it to get the point across. </p><p>King, however, says, "Or you could just talk to him about it," when asked for advice. Which is very hypocritical of him but Bohn concedes that that's a good idea regardless. </p><p>The real trick is bringing it up in a way that is both organic and not so awkward it's painful. And after not managing that either, Bohn just gives up and decides to go with his usual bluntness. To hell with it. If he has to wake up one more morning to Duen unsubtlely barrel rolling away from him across the mattress he's going to fucking scream.</p><p>"You're allowed to be horny," he says, staring up at the ceiling. </p><p>Despite the severe and pointed lack of eye contact, he can still tell that Duen has totally frozen in place on the other side of the bed. "Um-" he squeaks out.</p><p>Bohn sighs, "I would actually be pretty offended if you <em> weren't </em> horny for me. And it's kinda killing me that you think something as small- <em> big</em>," he amends, because he can't fucking help it, and he hears Duen inhale too sharply and choke on the breath, "as a boner is a good reason not to touch each other." He tilts his head to the side then, raising an eyebrow as he sees Duen staring at him where he’s laying a foot or so away on his stomach. “Seriously, it’s fine.” The whole thing where Duen acts like he’s been scalded by his own sexual preferences though is less fine, but as always that little bit of hurt dies on the tip of Bohn’s tongue before it can be admitted. </p><p>“I don’t . . .” Duen starts, and Bohn rolls over on his side to face him fully, propping his head up on the palm of his hand. “I don’t want to go too fast . . .”</p><p>Ah. “It’s not like you were grinding up on me,” Bohn points out. Something flickers in Duen’s eyes though as he says it, and his breath hitches just a little. “. . . Unless you . . . Wanted to?”</p><p>Duen looks away to stare down at the pillow he’s pulled up against his chest. “I don’t want you to hate me,” he whispers, and Bohn is up on his knees so fast his head spins.</p><p>He’s at Duen’s side in a heartbeat, tugging at his shoulders until he can pull him up and press his face into the crook of his neck. “Duen, what <em> the fuck</em>? Why would I ever hate you?”</p><p>Hands clutch at the back of his shirt, drag the fabric and bunch it between unsteady fingers. “What if you don’t like it?” Duen asks hoarsely against his shoulder. </p><p>Oh jeeze. “Baby,” Bohn starts, stops in mild surprise as Duen shudders, “I can promise you I’ll like whatever you want to do to me.” Duen makes a disbelieving noise, and he tries not to sigh. “Like, literally, I would be happy even if you just rutted up against my thigh to get yourself off.” This time, entwined together as they are, he can feel it when Duen’s breath catches. Alright, that’s definitely on the table, and Bohn is absolutely down for it. “Hell, I’ll let you do it right now.” </p><p>“Don’t <em> say that</em>,” Duen mumbles into his shoulder. He’s blushing, Bohn realizes, he can feel the heat of it against the side of his neck. <em> Cute</em>. </p><p>“Alright,” Bohn concedes, “I’ll just go jerk off in the shower by myself then.”</p><p>He’s not totally surprised when his back hits the mattress, mostly because he was expecting the shove for that, but he <em> is </em> surprised to find Duen leaning over him, looking equal parts annoyed and flustered out of his mind. God, he really is blushing, a pretty pink flush that spreads all the way down to his collarbones peeking out from the neck of his shirt. “Adorable,” Bohn praises, “how could I ever get bored of you?”</p><p>Maybe that’s teasing a bit too much, or maybe it’s just enough. He watches Duen’s breath stagger, hears it stall audibly. A hand reaches down to fit over his cheek, and Bohn leans into the touch, practically purring with relief just from that. “It’s not too fast?” Duen asks, still hesitant, uncertain. </p><p>Bohn tilts his head to the side to press a kiss into his boyfriend's palm. “Whatever speed you want to go is perfect,” he reassures. “I don’t care what we do, you know that. The only thing I care about is that I do it with you. Okay?”</p><p>Still, Duen looks torn. “You say that, but . . .”</p><p>Bohn quirks an eyebrow again, “Well you’re never going to figure out what I do and don’t like if all you do is stare at me.” Duen’s eyes narrow and Bohn lets himself smirk, showing off the barest hint of cheshire smugness. "Come on, you're a med student, right? Anatomy, biology, the scientific method . . . It's not a real hypothesis unless you test it." The trepidation still hasn't left Duen's gaze, but he frowns. His hand is on Bohn's cheek again, his fingers tracing back and forth along the line of his jaw below his ear. Uncertain. Hesitant. <em> Nervous</em>. Bohn sighs and reaches up, threading his fingers into Duen's hair to urge him down for a kiss. "We don't have to do anything," he reminds quietly in the small space between them as he pulls away again. </p><p>Above him, Duen swallows, "I . . . <em> I don't know where to start</em>."</p><p>Bohn's pretty sure his heart has never clenched so hard in his entire life. It skips a beat, maybe even two, and he pushes up onto his elbows, so exasperatingly fond in every atom of his body that it <em> hurts</em>. "Do you want me to show you?" His fingers curl into the front of Duen's shirt, tug, and he sucks in a shuddering breath as they crash together back onto the sheets. "This is new for me too, remember?" He whispers, and Duen buries his face into his neck and nods. "We can figure it out together."</p><p>"Okay." </p><p>Bohn hums, "Good. Make sure to tell me if I do something you don't like, got it? You're in charge here."</p><p>For some reason that makes Duen pull back a little, just enough to give him a thoroughly incredulous look. "What?"</p><p>"You're in charge," Bohn repeats. "We go at your speed, we do what you want. So if it's too much or too fast, and you don't like something, you let me know. Alright?"</p><p>"I- yeah." Duen nods again, slightly surer this time. "Yeah," he repeats, and Bohn watches warmly as his eyes flicker down, <em> down</em>, and then quickly back up again. </p><p>He reclines back in the wake of that brief but heady gaze, stretches out and traces careful fingers up the sides of Duen's neck. "Come here," he instructs. "We'll go slow."</p><p>Kissing Duen always feels like standing on a precipice. It makes each breath stumble out of him, makes something swoop and whirl in his chest, a falter upon an edge with just enough room left to catch himself before he falls. If souls are real and corporeal, Bohn’s sure that each kiss takes a piece of his, holds it in the connection between them, and then gifts it back somehow better, one little bit at a time. He loves the way Duen looks at him whenever they break apart for air, too, that gentle low simmer, his eyes dark and half-lidded, his lips parted. It’s intense in a way he’s sure Duen doesn’t realize, and every time he sees it it leaves him absolutely breathless, stunned and drawn to the brink of tripping over his own racing heart all over again. </p><p>“Hey, gorgeous,” he praises when Duen presses up on a hand to stare down at him, panting and flushed and everything Bohn could ever want. </p><p>That pretty pink glow lights back into Duen’s cheeks, and he ducks his head with one of his flustered smiles. “We’re never going to get anywhere if you keep doing that,” he huffs, but his voice is thick with affection.</p><p>“Nah,” Bohn grins, “I think you like it. Here.” He moves slowly, let’s Duen see where he’s putting his hands as he skates them down over his ribs and then further to his hips before he guides him back down to tangle their legs together. The effect is immediate, and Duen’s breath hitches sharply against the hollow of his throat as he presses down against his thigh. “See?” Bohn murmurs. “I can feel how much you like it.”</p><p>That might be a bit of an understatement, actually, Bohn thinks dizzily as Duen’s hands come up to clutch at his shoulders. He can feel <em> a lot</em>, and that’s not just a compliment. Even through both their pajama pants he’s treated to the heat, the weight, and when he clenches his fingers against Duen’s hips, brings him a fraction closer, he’s rewarded with a groan and a telling twitch against his thigh. <em> Holy shit</em>. </p><p>“Good?” Bohn asks, and if his voice comes out a little choked, that’s just between the two of them. Duen nods, and Bohn shifts his grip, skims his hands back up to brush under the hem of his shirt and tease at bare skin. He gets a strangled little sound for his efforts, and Duen’s breath stutters out hot over his neck. “Tell me what you want,” Bohn urges, “and I’ll do it.”</p><p>He’s tense, Bohn notes with distaste, trembling, and he moves to tangle the fingers of one hand in the hair at the nape of Duen’s neck, pull him a little further up his body and place a kiss over the corner of his mouth. “Baby,” he soothes, “you can touch me too, you know.” </p><p>When Duen finally moves it’s slow, almost calculated, his hands lifting from where they’d been bunching up the sheets beneath them to slide up under Bohn’s shirt. He shivers into that first touch, and his fingers flex across the soft space between Bohn’s hips and the bottom of his ribs.</p><p>Bohn sucks in a breath through his teeth, stilling his own exploration of Duen’s skin to give way to this instead, to leave Duen the uninterrupted space to figure things out. “There you go,” he murmurs, finding purchase on Duen’s waist again for lack of anything better to hold on to. The slight pressure there though makes Duen jerk down, grind with a gasp against his thigh, and Bohn blinks as he starts to pull away.</p><p>“S-sorry!” Duen stammers, his eyes wide and still so, so dark despite how mortified he looks. The only thing that stops him from moving too far is Bohn’s firm grip on his hips. </p><p>He has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, but Bohn manages. “Sorry? For what?” His voice dips an octave, “Do it again.” When Duen just stares down at him, he drags him back, presses his thigh up and catches the startled moan that escapes him with a kiss. “Come on. Do it again.”</p><p>This time when Duen touches him it’s a little surer, steadier. His hands glide up under his shirt, nails scraping over the base of his ribs and then higher as he sinks into the kiss, repeats it between staggered breaths. “You have to tell me, too,” he whispers, nosing his way over Bohn’s cheek, his jaw, “if you don’t like it.”</p><p>“I will,” Bohn assures, “I promise.” His hands skim back down while Bohn traces his own up to his shoulders, marking out a path over his spine as Duen palms at his hips. “There you go,” he encourages, “You want what I said earlier, right?” He can feel how hard he is against his thigh, how the length of it drags against him as they shift together, and this time he reads the tremble in Duen’s frame as what it really is, the quiver of holding back. “Go ahead. Come on, baby. Do it,” Bohn breathes, “get yourself off.”</p><p>When Duen finally moves it pushes a groan out of Bohn’s lungs. It really, really should not be this hot, he thinks wildly, to have someone else just grind against him. Especially not when he’s not getting much friction from it himself. But it’s not just someone else, it’s <em> Duen</em>, and Bohn isn’t ashamed to admit that’s <em> exactly </em> what makes it hot. That, and the fact that it’s all so tantalizingly new for him, too. The weight of another body on <em> top </em> of his own especially stirs up something in his nerves, fierce and heated in a way he didn’t realize he wanted. Duen's fingers are a brand under his shirt, dipping now to tease below the elastic at his waistline as he keeps him close, pants out harshly over the dip between his neck and shoulder. There’s almost too much to feel, too many details to take in as he draws Duen’s face back up to his for a kiss, fiercer now than before. But he wants all of it anyways, chases every little touch and roll and merge between them with soft praises tucked into the corners of Duen’s mouth and brushed across his cheeks. </p><p>It’s quick, it’s messy, and it’s so fucking perfect.</p><p>Duen shudders apart with a gasp shaped like his name, and Bohn tastes it on his tongue, steals it into his own lungs. “<em>Bohn</em>.” He feels the heat of him coming undone against his thigh, the pulse at the peak of his climax, and he breaks the kiss to suck in a whine of a sound, tilting his head just enough to take in the way his boyfriend squeezes his eyes shut and moans. God damn, he’s even beautiful like this, unraveled and frayed at the seams.</p><p>He holds his compliments on the tip of his tongue though, if only because he can tell that Duen’s already getting flustered by what he’s done, is choking on another apology even while he’s still panting harshly over the side of Bohn’s neck. So he goes with something easier, lighter, something to hold the moment in place for just a little bit longer. “You wanna help me out too, babe?”</p><p>Duen nods in the barely there space between them. “Show me?”</p><p>A pleased hum escapes him, and Bohn rolls them with a hand to Duen’s side. “Here,” he says, flipping himself over so that he can wiggle his way back against Duen’s chest and pull his arms around him. “This’ll be easy. Just do me like how you do yourself, okay?”</p><p>It’s the simplest instructions in the world, Bohn thinks, heaping the praise onto himself as Duen hooks his chin over his shoulder. And it really is, because for once Duen wastes no time, his only hesitation making itself known in the startled inhale Bohn feels against his neck as he slips his hands under the waist of Bohn’s pajama pants and pulls him out. “<em>Oh</em>.”</p><p>Bohn would smirk if he weren’t busy trying not to instinctively jerk into the loose circle of Duen’s hand. Still, he manages a hoarse, “Like what you see?” that earns him a dig of teeth into the soft space below his jaw. “<em>Fuck</em>!” Duen drags his grip up, almost painfully slow, settling his other hand over Bohn’s hip to keep him still as he rolls the pad of his thumb over the head and smears precum down the shaft. “Yeah,” Bohn gasps, “just like that. Just keep doing that.”</p><p>If he thought he was on edge before, he was actually horribly, horribly wrong. Duen works him like he’s going to be quizzed on this later, changes his grip, his tempo, brings him so close and then back again until Bohn is practically writhing in his arms. He doesn’t object though, bites back every filthy plea, because he’s keenly aware that Duen is trying to figure out what he likes for himself. In its own way it’s better like this, to be aware of how Duen slowly relaxes behind him, how his movements grow more confident every time he makes Bohn whimper and choke on a swear or utterance of his name. And that’s what he wants more than anything, anyways, even moreso than his own pleasure. He wants Duen to want this without inhibitions, and if he has to be slowly tortured on the brink of his own release to get that, he really won't complain. </p><p>Eventually though, he can’t help but beg. There's only so much one man can stand, after all. “<em>God</em>-” Bohn whimpers, higher and needier than he’s sure he’s ever sounded. "<em>Fuck</em>. Please, I’m so- I’m so close.” Duen’s grip changes again, tightens, and that’s all it takes for Bohn to arch back against him and spill over his fingers with a strangled cry.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” Duen whispers, an echo of his last exclamation, but this time Bohn hears the heat in it even over his own ragged breaths. He reaches up to tangle his fingers in his hair, press their cheeks together as he listens to Duen utter a soft, “<em>Wow</em>,” that will be really funny in hindsight, but right now just makes Bohn shiver. </p><p>“S’good,” Bohn mumbles when he has enough wherewithal to do so, “Really . . . You did really good.”</p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p>“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Bohn praises. “Five stars, A+.” Duen snickers into his shoulder, and Bohn beams. “Can I pencil you in for an appointment to try this again on Wednesday?” </p><p>Duen makes low, considering noise, and Bohn waits, the thrum of his own still-drumming heart in his ears. “I . . . Okay. Yeah.”</p><p>“You want to?” Bohn confirms, just to be sure.</p><p>“I want to.”</p><p>Bohn’s glad he still has his back to him, that they’re still tucked together just the way they are, because he’s pretty sure being this giddy right off the heels of an orgasm is probably so embarrassing it should be illegal. He doesn’t care though, hides his grin with the back of his hand, and muffles a pleased little noise with his knuckles as Duen presses a kiss to his neck.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've actually had this sitting around for MONTHS, ever since the season finale. Originally I wanted to take another shot at a full first times galavant with these two, but  I've been so hooked on my own stupid AUs I never made it past what's written here. Which is to say at some point, maybe, I might come back to this and add a few more chapters.</p><p>Comments are appreciated as always!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>